Couldn't Have Done It Better Myself
by Whispatchet
Summary: He'd been noticing it more and more lately. And it facinated him. So perhaps... their similarities did not stop with their appearances.
1. Welcome to Ramparts! Lets Talk

It wasn't the first time he had seen it. Sometimes it was only out of the corner of his eye… other times, it was right in front of him. And he was sure there were times he had seen it but he hadn't noticed, busy as he was, usually.  
But, he was certainly noticing it more and more these days. Up until the point where his counterpart generally found himself riddled with bullets by the rest of the team, the BLU Pyros that were deployed against them tended to behave just as he would have. It was strange to watch what was essentially just a blue coloured version of yourself running around and all the while be thinking, 'I would have done exactly the same thing'.

It was no secret by now that every member of each class had more or less the same appearance. It had been creepy, at first, to only have the colour of someone's outfit determine who you were shooting at. But, no two were identical. For example, their Medic was a bit taller than the BLU one, and had bright blue eyes, as opposed to a sort of dusty grey. The RED Sniper had a deep scar on his left shoulder. The BLU Heavy had a slight hitch in his left knee, making his already hulking step jarred with the slightest of limps. And he himself was taller and more slender than the newest BLU Pyro, although by how much he wasn't sure; they hadn't really stood next to each other to see. And this latest one was doing a good job at not getting himself killed, which, he supposed was more of a similarity.

And it was these similarities that were drawing the RED Pyro's attention. If the RED team moved in one direction, the BLU Pyro responded. And in every situation, now that the RED Pyro was paying attention, the RED Pyro realised that had he been in that BLU's place, he would have reacted in exactly the same manner. And when it got to the point whereupon the latest BLU Pyro was the target of something most irritating; namely, the RED Demoman lifting his groin protection and shouting "KABOOM!" (Something that the RED Pyro couldn't stand him doing, and would very much like to set him on fire every time he did it) that the RED Pyro decided he wanted to look into it further.  
Mostly because the BLU Pyro, much to his counterpart's great pleasure, pulled his flare gun, and aimed right at the smiley face taped to the Demoman's pants. The RED Pyro had to restrain the great peal of rather satisfied laughter as he moved towards the now hysterical and on fire Demoman to put him out with a blast of air from the end of his fondly named 'Degreaser'.  
And he didn't dare flash the BLU Pyro a thumbs up; the distraction very may well find them both slightly more ventilated than usual, what with Snipers and Heavies being in the area.

Yes, he would very much like to look into it. Now all he needed was the opportunity.

His best bet for any sort of idea on how the other team operated was probably to talk to his rather smart BLU counterpart. The tricky part would be getting him alone… and not trying to kill him…. And willing to talk.  
And to be honest, there weren't really any places in Hydro where he could corner the other Pyro without running the risk of being stumbled upon, and then, of course, made slightly less living. Wouldn't matter, in that situation, which team stumbled upon them; if it was the RED team, they'd kill the BLU and his plans would come to naught. If it was the BLU team, they'd kill _him,_ and he could think of several reasons why that would not be good for him, and they were not all directly related to his plans.

But, luckily for him, the answer was practically handed to him in a RED envelope, in the form of Orders from the Board of Directors; Deployment Orders. Both teams were being moved out of Hydro to a new area, for reasons that the Suits didn't deign it appropriate to explain. But, none the less, they were shipping out. And it wasn't to an area anyone on the RED team had even heard of. It wasn't Hoodoos, it wasn't Dustbowl, it wasn't Granary. It was a completely new area.

The Administrator called it _Ramparts_.

When the RED team piled out of the Sniper's Van at an airport, the team had been slightly concerned. They'd been able to drive to where they were going just fine till now, even all the way to Cold Front and back, and the thought of needing to fly made some members uneasy. Just how far away _was_ this Ramparts place?  
But, the RED Pilot (who was dressed in a uniform so similar to theirs that he would have fit right in as another combat class, were there vehicle classes) simply smiled at them from behind his mirrored sunglasses.  
"No worries, Chaps!" He said in a thick British accent as he stood waiting for them on the gangplank of a Helicopter Plane. "You're not going to any far reaches this time!"  
The Sniper was the one to respond (possibly because his own accent made him the one to understand the Brit the best) "Then where _are_ we goin', mate?"  
The Pilot smirked, and gestured with a pointed finger. "You're going up."

And UP was right.

After piling into the plane and strapping themselves in, (Turns out the Heavy had never been on a plane before. The things you learn.) They took off vertically, before soaring into the distance. They flew for about an hour over the typical landscape, before they started to slow down in the air, and started rising again.

Now, everyone knew what Hoodoos were. They were the reason the Hoodoos area was named as such. More or less, a big pillar of rock.

Ramparts, as it turned out, was on top of one BIG Hoodoo.

Or rather, a Mesa, to be more accurate. Sturdier than a Hoodoo, really. And it had to be, seeing as it was about to have eighteen guys running around on top of it, trying to blow each other to shit.

Looking out the windows of the plane, they got to have a quick look at the area. One big open area in the middle, and two smaller open areas on each end, a whopping eight control points from the looks, and lots and lots of stone maze. And at each end, appropriately coloured for each team, were two tall towers, which was where the planes were going to land.  
The RED plane soared over the maze below, narrowly missing the BLU plane (unsurprisingly, just like their own one, only blue) as it too, soared over so it's occupants could have a look at where they would be trying to kill each other next. The team could hear the Pilot chuckling to himself before he turned the plane towards the RED tower, and brought it in to land gently on the helicopter pad on its roof.

As the propellers started winding down, the Pilot exited the cockpit and moved to open the door so the team could get out.  
"Well Chaps…" He said, turning to face them. "Welcome to Ramparts." He smiled gently as they started to disembark. "Don't get lost!" He called after them.

Under his mask, the Pyro was grinning. This couldn't have gone better had he planned it.

... ... ... ... ...

The BLU team were uneasy.

The rock walls of the Ramparts maze made it hard for the group to spread out and manoeuvre properly. They had to stick together or they'd get lost… which meant a well-aimed grenade or rocket would obliterate them all. They had to get to the open area that the Scout had assured them was up ahead, so they could at least move without tripping over each other. Which was easier said than done, apparently.

"Where is it, Scoot?" The Demo barked, rather peeved. "You've bin' sayin' 'Just around 'ere' for th' last bleedin' ten minutes!"  
"All these passages look the same, alright?" The Scout shouted back. "I'd like to see you do better, Cyclops!"

"Alrigh', that does it!" The Scotsman abruptly broke into a run, turning down one of the side tunnels. "I'm getting' away from y' befer I get meself killed!"  
"Wait up there Pardner! You'll be killed out there on yer own!" The Engineer took off after him, and in a matter of moments, their group was two less.

It was about now that the Medic came to notice that the Spy was gone. It didn't come as a surprise or a concern, but, the German had thought they were sticking together.

Apparently the Soldier didn't agree. Encouraged by the Demoman and the Engineer running off, he adjusted his Rocket Launcher and ran ahead with a cry of "CHAAAAARGE!"  
The Scout ran after him. "Come back here, you moron!"

There was a pause, as the remaining members of the BLU team tried to work out what just happened.

"…I guess we're splittin' up then." The Sniper said, heading off down another path.

"Da. Is good plan. Surround leetle RED team before take their point." The Heavy declared, as though that was the idea all along. "Come along Doktor!" He said happily, striding off.  
The Medic sighed. Why did he follow him around again? "Ja, ich komme." He said lightly, plodding after the larger man.

And then the Pyro was alone.

What in hell? In the space of 60 seconds, the entire team and all buggered off! Well fine. Be that way.  
He looked around. He was at a junction of four passages. The one behind him was the way they had come. The way directly ahead was where the Medic and the Heavy had gone. The Sniper, Demoman and Engineer had all gone down the path to the left. The Soldier and Scout had gone down the path on the right.

And goodness knows where the Spy had nicked off to, the bastard.

Choices, choices.

Well, he might as well go after the Heavy and Medic. After all, they were both prime Spy targets, so, they'd need a little back up… in the most literal sense possible, of course. So, adjusting his grip on his 'Backburner', he headed down the centre path, to catch up with the Heavy and the Medic.

A half hour later, that turned out to be easier said than done, too.

He must have been wandering around in circles for all the progress he was making. The Scout had been right; every single path in this place looked the same. And even scorching the walls so he had some indication of where he had been didn't help; this place was big enough so that he wasn't actually looping around and around. But, he wasn't getting anywhere, regardless.

He turned a corner, and suddenly felt like revising that thought.

He had come to a clearing in the maze. And smack bang in the middle of it, was a control point. A RED one. A quick look around, and the BLU Pyro couldn't see any REDs around. Had he bothered to try and determine where he was in relation to the tall RED and BLU towers at either end, he may have discovered that he was a wee bit closer to the RED spawn point than he would have liked.

And, had he bothered to look behind the boulders scattered around the edge of the clearing, he might have thought twice about heading straight to the point, what with the masked RED waiting for him to wander through.

He stepped onto the point, and was somewhat disappointed to discover it was locked. He couldn't capture this point unless his team captured the points closer to the centre. Unfortunate, as capturing an unmanned point all on your own reigned in a sense of satisfaction that was right up there alongside the smug variety. But, besides that, it made the BLU come to an uncomfortable realisation.

He was too close to the enemy.

And, as if to prove him right, a muffled voice sounded from behind him.

"Hhhh thhrhh."

_Hi there._

_

* * *

_

Whispy: I'm a big fan of TF2 as of only recently, to be honest. My brother bought it for me for my birthday, and I must admit, although I'm not usually a fan of First Person Shooters (mostly because it's like you're wearing blinders, and I get shot from behind a lot) but this one is a LOT of fun. I was surprised!  
Even more surprising that the first story I get inspired to do isn't about my favourite class (which is the Medic, for future reference) Who'd a thunk it?


	2. I'm not allowed to burn these guys!

The BLU Pyro spun around in surprise, backpedalling across the locked point to get away from the RED who had popped up behind him. He raised his 'Backburner' and fired it, a plume of beautiful red and orange belching from its end.

The RED Pyro seemed amused at this reaction if anything, and, diving out of the way of the searing heat, raised his own weapon, and instead of fire, a blast of compressed air burst out of its end, knocking the other backwards.

Aware that to stumble was to die, the BLU rolled skilfully back onto his feet and raised his weapon again.

_Click._

"Oh zhht." He muttered. Who'd have thought, all that wall marking he had done earlier had eaten all his ammo. He dropped the 'Backburner' and pulled out his Flare Gun, but in the seconds it had taken for the BLU to realise he was out of ammo and switch to his secondary weapon, his opponent had drawn his hammer, and swung it around.

The 'PowerJack' struck his wrists with enough force to put a hole in a concrete wall, and undoubtedly broke them both. The Flare Gun fell half dented in, to the stone floor, and its owner fell back to join it with a muffled shriek of pain, doubled over, unable to stop his body's natural desire to curl around his injured arms.

He sat on the floor like that for a second or two, before forcing his head up to look at the RED.

His opposite was standing over him, his masked appearance casting a deep silhouette with the sun behind him. The 'PowerJack' was still out, the handle only held in one hand, the shaft rested against his shoulder.

The BLU glared through his mask at his opposite. "Wll…ghh mnh wff ihh."

The RED huffed slightly, and swung his hammer around, off his shoulder, and straight into the dirt beside the defeated BLU. The other Pyro couldn't stop himself from jumping as that weapon pounded hard into the ground beside him, and it took a few seconds for him to realise that it _hadn't_ reorganised his torso into a bloody pulp.

The BLU looked up again, this time, decidedly confused. And it only increased as the RED sat down on the dirt beside him.

"Wh… whht mhh mph o dmmphn?"

The RED either didn't understand the muffled question, or was ignoring him. He was reaching into a leather satchel on his belt, and pulled out two things; a bit of paper, folded up, and a small Health Kit.

_No way. He wouldn't possibly be thinking of…. Giving me that? What kind of idiot is this RED guy?_ The BLU thought, amazed.

But, the RED placed the Health Kit on his opposite side, and unfolded the paper, holding it up for him to see.

Scrawled across the top of the page were the words, _Humour me, or I'll kill you._

Well, it was nice to know where one stood. Heaving a sigh, the BLU nodded. "Shph."

The RED Pyro nodded, and reached into his bag once more, and pulled out a pencil. Twirling it once in his fingers, he put the tip to the paper.

_You will have to forgive the written conversation, BLU._ He wrote, glancing at his captive occasionally to make sure he was watching the words appear. _But I cannot take my mask off._

The BLU Pyro perked up in surprise. "Rhhlh?" He asked. "Nht ht lll?"

Not at all? The RED Pyro chuckled a little and shook his head in a no, before returning the pencil to the page. _Not unless in the good graces of our Medic. _He explained. _Do you suffer the same, by chance?_

The BLU was suspicious, but, didn't really want to shit his captor off, not when he was unarmed…to the point of hardly being able to use said arms. So, answering truthfully, he shook his head. "Nhh."

The RED nodded once. "Mmmh." He said. Without warning, grabbed the BLU Pyro by the head, and wrenched the mask upwards.

And the RED found himself looking at a man, probably in his twenties; the left side of his face was scarred up, presumably from setting too big a fire too close to his head. They bore some similarities, but, were different enough, he supposed. Considering that everyone else who shared a class in this damn war had the same face. This BLU was young, that was for sure. No wonder he was taller. Kind of reminded him of what he used to look like, when he was young.

The BLU coughed a little as the raw air touched his lungs. Unsurprising, really. When he had been young, his lungs were accustomed to the outside air. But, more and more years of wearing this suit, and doing what he did… well, let's just say the chain-smoking French pain in the ass had less breathing problems than he did. So, this kid Pyro must have been doing this for a least a year or two.

After getting over his coughing fit, the BLU pointed a slate grey glare at his captor. "Any point to this?" He asked. His voice had a slight rasp to it; the warning sign of what was to come.

The older Pyro chuckled and twirled the pencil again.

_I wanted to talk, young BLU Pyro. We are very similar, you and I, and I am wondering if the similarities between our comrades extend past their appearances, too._

The BLU looked at the latest messaged scribbled down, before giving his captor an incredulous look.  
"You ambushed me, and broke my fuckin' wrists, just to chat about the assholes I'm not allowed to light up?" He blurted out, pausing to cough once. "You're freaking kidding me!"

_I have a Health Kit. _Was the written reminder. _And I can give it to you, for your wrists._

"Pfft! What do you think I am, stupid? I dunno what you're planning, RED, so just kill me and get it over with!"

The older Pyro suddenly seemed to loom.

_Is that what you want, BLU? _He wrote, practically shoving the paper right under the boy's nose when he was done. _Really?_

The boy recoiled a little. "…H…How can you be so freaking menacing when you're communicating though notes?" He muttered.

The RED Pyro broke out laughing. _It's a talent, I suppose. Now, are you going to listen to my proposal?_

The BLU frowned at him, but, found he didn't much like the idea of having his head caved in by the 'PowerJack, which still sat by its owner's side, just begging for an excuse to be introduced to the side of the BLU's skull.

"Alright RED. I'm listening." He paused. "So to speak."

RED laughed hard again, greatly amused by the two, awful, unintentional puns his young captive had let past his chapped lips, before putting pencil to paper again.

… … … … … … …

_I cannot believe I am freaking doing this._

It had sounded like the stupidest idea on this side of the moon, and the younger Pyro had been quite happy to let his opponent know, along with all the reasons he could think of, starting with 'we'll both be killed' and ending with 'we'll both be fuckin' killed!'  
But, the BLU quickly learned that his opposite was not the kind of man who was going to be persuaded from his plans in any great hurry, especially when he had his heart set. And this Pyro wanted to see the BLU team pretty badly. He wanted to know if he had been spending the last ten years of his life fighting against the same men he was fighting with. He wanted to know what in hell was going on!

He also wanted to know how well the BLU team knew their Pyro. How well the RED team knew theirs.

And the younger Pyro just couldn't argue. Not if he didn't want to become better acquainted with the 'PowerJack' than he had already.

And so, this was why he was now standing in a line, in a RED uniform, receiving a verbal lambasting from the RED Solider for not contributing to the battle, all the while trying as hard as he could not to fidget. He shouldn't be here! Well, not while not trying to burn these guys to a cinder at the very least! But no one was holding a weapon. If he was hanging onto his, they'd start asking him questions, and he didn't want them to start asking him questions.  
How was he supposed to act?  
That stupid raving RED had not even offered a single word of advice! Damnit, the second they saw each other on the battle field, he was killing him, and taking his uniform back.

If he even lasted that long.

"Are you even LISTENING to me, maggot?

"Mph!" The Pyro said quickly, jumping slightly.  
The Soldier huffed at him. "That's yes SIR to you, maggot!"  
"Mph mrph!"  
"Better." And at that point, the Soldier launched into what he thought was a riveting and stirring speech about the qualities of Sun Tzu, and how he could have killed every person on the planet with a ball point pen. The RED Scout, apparently, was rather similar to the BLU one, to the point where he automatically goaded the Soldier by interjecting;  
"So why didn't he then, if he was such a smartass?"  
The Soldier whirled on the Scout to lecture him about the ancient Chinese military mastermind's moral code, and the Pyro let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding.

Every time one of the REDs looked in his direction, he found himself stiffening. _It's alright. _He kept telling himself. _I'm wearing that crazy asshole's red uniform. They can't tell the difference!_

But the way the Medic kept glancing at him made him nervous. The doctor would be the one to know the other Pyro the best, he supposed, so, maybe he was suspicious alrea-  
"Are y' okay there, Mate?"

The voice of the Sniper damn near made the young Pyro jump out of his skin. He whipped around and backed up from the Australian, who had walked up behind him.  
But instead of looking suspicious, he looked a little worried.

"Y' alrigh'?" He asked again. "Something got y' spooked?"

_Shit! Okay, okay, don't panic. He still thinks you're that other Pyro. He's worried because you're acting freaked out. Oh fuck he's still looking at me… what do I DO!_

"Nnnn…" The young Pyro could have cursed himself. Even with the mask making his small 'Uhh…' sound like a grunt, and as a result, easily translated into any number of words, it hadn't muffled how panicked he was. And damn it, he couldn't get himself to calm down! He was going to start hyperventilating at this point!

The Sniper's worried expression deepened to a concerned frown. "Pyro? Y' didn't get hit, did'ja?" And the sharpshooter started looking the shorter man up and down, expecting to find a tear in the suit, blood maybe mingling with the red of his uniform.

Before he could even think, the Pyro put both hands up defensively.  
"Nrrh! Mn fnn!"  
The Sniper looked sceptical. "Then what are y' freaking out fer?"  
His eyes darted around the area frantically, terrified that the other RED mercenaries had overheard the exchange and were paying attention.  
But, it seemed like they were still being distracted by the Soldier, who apparently was still locked in banter with the Scout.

_Talk about an odd consistency._ He thought.

And then his eyes landed on the Spy, who was talking to the Engineer enthusiastically.

_That's it!_

"Nrrh, mrfrph. Thphh mmph rph mh Spphh rphph." He said, trying to sound convincing.  
He needn't have worried. The Australian hadn't seemed to understand him anyway. "Wot?"  
Not quite on the ball, there was a short pause while the Pyro tried to think of what to do next. Opting against looking skyward, like he might have done while talking to one of his own team, he just turned a little and jabbed a thumb in the Spy's direction.

That gave him the idea. "Aaah... dodgin' knives all day, were ya'?"

Pyro nodded, and the concern on the Sniper's face turned to understanding, much to the young fire-starter's relief.  
"I know how ya' feel, Mate. He said, clapping the shorter warrior on the shoulder, making him jump slightly. "Those sneaky blighters have been takin' full advantage o' this new pisshole. Once we get stuck wanderin' on our own, any teammate can be one o' those bastards. "

The Pyro nodded. _Thank fucking Christ… _He thought to himself. _I guess it's universal then…. If in doubt, a Spy did it.  
_He coughed a little to cover the little giggles at his own, lame joke, before turning to look at the other mercenaries.

Damn, this was just…. Freaking bizarre.

You had to be blind not to notice the similarities, really. How everyone in any given class looked identical. Sounded identical. If he shut his eyes and just listened, he hardly would have been able to tell. He didn't dare try it, though. He wasn't letting his guard down with all of these RED bastards around.

...

:D


End file.
